Not All Cats Are Grey
by Sagarmatha
Summary: Daemon is forced into the role of pleasure slave once again but learns a lesson about the game that he plays.
1. Chapter 1

**_All Cats Are Grey _**

**_by The Cure_**

_I never thought that I would find myself  
In bed amongst the stones  
The columns are all men  
Begging to crush me  
No shapes sail on the dark deep lakes  
And no flags wave me home _

_In the caves  
All cats are grey  
In the caves  
The textures coat my skin  
In the death cell  
A single note  
Rings on and on and on_

* * *

Daemon swept into the room like a chilly winter breeze that invigorates the body before the shock of its intensity hits. All eyes turned to him, unable to avoid giving him their attention, and Daemon took the opportunity to take stock of the witches in the room. He tried to guess which one he had been given to this evening. It was a bitter game but it was one that provided a modicum of amusement depending on his mood. And tonight he was dangerously playful.

It hadn't taken Daemon more than twenty minutes to get himself presentable again after his tangle with Dorothea. That was a new record, although certain parts of his body still throbbed as a reminder of their…discussion. He knew he would never win unless he was able to kill her but there was a certain satisfaction in frustrating her. Besides, he barely remembered the falling to the floor, the writhing in agony, the begging her to stop. And there definitely hadn't been tears this time…or had there?

Daemon put these thoughts aside and began circulating around the room. He winked and glared and teased his way through the ballroom containing delegates from various regions, near and far, all present to reassure the anxious Dorothea of their continued loyalty. He knew many of the witches here…intimately and he expertly delivered the precise facial expression or clever phrase to send each of them shivering in simultaneous desire and panic. He loved this game too when the icy rage had not yet overtaken him...when he had the presence of mind to plan his revenge before he struck.

But his business here was to find and bed his current assignment, Lucinda. All he had was her name, Dorothea liked her little games too, but he would find her because if he didn't…he had already been informed of the price for failure.

She was a young Opal-jeweled Queen from a region that had not yet fully linked itself with Hayll. The bitch was being dangled before him like a toy so that the higher ranking Queens could determine if they liked the way he played. If he behaved himself and played nice, he would find himself packed off to their court for an extended period. If he didn't, well, annoying Dorothea was always good for a laugh even if it would come with another humiliating punishment. Everything has its price.

* * *

Lucinda wrung her hands as her eyes darted nervously around the room. She stood in a loose circle between her province Queen and the Summer-sky jeweled Prince who had been allowed to escort her. The Queen's own Sapphire-jeweled Consort rounded out the circle and continued to ignore her presence as he attempted to make intelligent and informed comments to his Queen regarding the aristos around them.

Lucinda glanced at her escort, Adnar, again to keep herself for searching the room for the Sadist. Adnar was younger than her and, although he had been pleasant enough, he was in the Queen's third circle and not one of Lucinda's own males. No doubt the higher ranking Queens didn't see the need for wasting a valued male from her own court. If the Sadist harmed her or killed her, any male that Lucinda would have brought with her from her own court would have died attempting to defend or avenge her. And they couldn't allow that to happen.

The Queens of her province were all jealous of how loyal and protective her males were of her, but they failed to consider why it was that their own courts were less than enthusiastic about serving them. Lucinda's parents, now long deceased, had taught her Protocol. It was as easy as that.

The Queens had set up this experiment so that no matter what happened they would win. If the reports were wrong and Sadi could be managed in the bedroom then they would have a new toy to play with. If not, they would divide Lucinda's displaced males among themselves and teach them what service really meant.

But for Lucinda's part, she was terrified. Daemon Sadi was the most sought after and feared Warlord Prince in existence. And she was just bait.

* * *

Daemon spotted an unfamiliar Queen with an Opal jewel and strode over to investigate. As he came closer he noticed her fussing and fidgeting and his lips curled up involuntarily in disgust. She had to be the one. And she was one of those women who just couldn't wait to have her fun with a helpless male. Well, he would show her a thing or two about helpless.

Daemon stroded over to her, an elegantly deadly predator with his prey in his sights.

"Lady," Daemon crooned in Lucinda's ear and made her jump. He had snuck up close and grabbed her elbow as he said it.

"I believe you requested some entertainment this evening," he continued, making the word entertainment sound like a dirty word. The province Queen and her Consort laughed at this and whispered to themselves.

Lucinda turned to him and yanked her elbow from his grasp.

"Prince Sadi, it is a pleasure to meet," she said coolly, offering him her hand with more grace and confidence than she had thought she would be able to muster.

Daemon's rudeness had shaken her out of her self pity and awakened her sense of pride, so that when he kissed her hand and lifted his threatening eyes to hers, she returned his gaze with icy composure. She knew he was a pleasure slave and bound to be bitter, but she would demand the respect she deserved. She was a Queen.

Although, if she had known that all he saw was an arrogant, spoiled brat…she would have tempered her expression.

* * *

_To be continued…_

_Please review! I'm sure you can see where this is going. :-)_


	2. Chapter 2

Lucinda, determined to get through this experience alive, decided to see if civility would get the dangerous look off of Daemon's face.

"It was so nice of you to agree to escort me this evening," Lucinda continued as evenly as she could with Daemon's expression threatening violence.

The province Queen and her consort twittered next to them and would have continued of Daemon hadn't shot them a nasty glare before he responded.

"Yes, well, I'm nothing if not accommodating," he said through gritted teeth, hating her more for the ruse of courtesy than for the fact that he would have to please her tonight.

Why was it that females couldn't take their pleasure without humiliating the male that gave it? Wasn't the fact that he was a slave enough for them? He had no choice but to obey and that wasn't exciting enough. They dreamt up degrading games and intricate situations so that punishment was inevitable. Most of the time because the choice was pain or punishment as if that was any kind of choice at all.

"And I can be very accommodating," Daemon continued in a harsh whisper.

Lucinda could not keep herself from shuddering in response to his thinly veiled threat and Daemon smiled. He actually smiled at her, a wickedly satisfied smile that brought a strange glint to his eyes and then it was gone. What replaced it was the elegantly bored face of the most beautiful male she had ever seen with no hint of the predator that lurked beneath.

Daemon held out his hand to her and said, "Dance?" as if she were just a beautiful woman he had spotted across the room.

Lucinda swallowed and reached out her hand to him. She wondered to herself if Deamon was insane. They said that a male could only endure being a pleasure slave for so long before they lost their minds. Daemon had been a slave for centuries. He had killed many of the witches that he had bedded. This was a well known fact which was why she was here to test him. How much more could he take before he killed any witch that touched him?

Lucinda felt for him deeply. Any Queen who followed Protocol and knew what it meant to have males of her own would feel the same way. Males were much more fragile than they appeared. Some people only saw the violence, the over-protectiveness, and the rage but deep down they were all pussy cats really. At least, in her limited experience. They wanted to fuss and be petted, that was the perfect life for a Blood male. And they dealt with all of the female snarling and flares of temper because there was nothing better than keeping their female safe…and once she was safe being able to bask in her attention and feel her hands on their bodies.

Lucinda would never understand why a female would need more that than from her males.

Daemon's hand squeezing her own brought Lucinda out of her private thoughts. They were now in the center of the dance floor posed to start the next dance when the music started again. In that brief moment of silence, Lucinda felt the weight of many eyes on her, but when she looked at Daemon, he had that same jaded expression. He simply waited for the music to start and when it did, he gave the required bow and applied the necessary pressure on her to guide her into the first step of the dance.

Lucinda moved easily through the initial movements, she knew this dance well and Daemon was an expert lead. He didn't push or pull her, but merely used a firm touch to guide her along and remind her body where to go. She began to smile then, enjoying herself and the way that he made them so graceful together. She knew the steps and had practiced them thoroughly, but he brought a whole new aspect to each movement, an elegance and style that she hadn't felt before with other partners.

Lucinda turned her head to beam at Daemon, to show him her girlish pleasure, but he was staring off, uninterested, over her shoulder. Her smile fell and she tripped on the next step, thrusting herself forward against him.

Daemon hadn't been doing it on purpose. The disinterest wasn't part of his revenge. He had whirled so very many women through this ballroom and still ended up battling them in the bedroom, so it would never have occurred to him to try win a reprieve on the dance floor.

And then suddenly, she was against him, her knees buckling. She caught herself on his arms and he automatically stiffened them to assist her. The next thing he knew has her thigh pressing hard against his crotch and then she was above him gasping in shock.

The pain had been immediate and intense. His knees had given way like water giving way to a rock in a stream and then he was on the floor. He rested on hands and knees, panting, and waiting for the pain to fade. The girl hadn't done anything that should have hurt like this, but Dorothea had done her work well this afternoon. He was raw and so sore that just the pressure of her leg against him had brought the pain flaring back. He didn't want to get up and feel his even his pants press against those sensitive areas again.

"You really are clumsy, aren't you?" a haughty voice said above him, but he ignored it.

"Here you go, dear," Dorothea continued and Daemon whimpered quietly as a teasing jolt of pain ran though him from the Ring of Obedience.

"I should have given this to you earlier," she purred and Daemon looked up to see her drop the Ring in Lucinda hand, "It looks like you are going to have to keep a firm hold on him this evening."

Dorothea looked down at him with a malicious grin and Daemon would have glared at her if he could have made his face show anything but pain. And then he saw tonight's witch slip his controlling ring onto her delicate finger.

* * *

_Please review! Thank you!_


	3. Chapter 3

Daemon looked back at the floor and grimaced. He had hoped that here, in her own house, Dorothea would not feel the need to pass on his controlling ring, but he was not so lucky. Of course, Daemon was an expert at distracting ladies from the fact that they wore that ring upon their finger. And if his wiles failed, and the witch was too aroused by inflecting pain to be diverted by pleasure, it was the witch who ultimately paid the price.

Daemon gathered himself up and pushed himself to his feet as gracefully as he could. Ignoring those that surrounded him, he neatly brushed himself off and crisply straightened his jacket. When he deigned to lift his head to acknowledge his audience, he found only Lucinda staring at him with her wide, young eyes. The rest of the curious witches had returned to their evening, having had their fill of his pain and humiliation. He was uninteresting now that his mistress for tonight had been selected.

Letting these thoughts go, he flashed smile at Lucinda that was both sensual and condescending. He purred "_How clumsily of me_" as if they had been flirting and he had accidently touched her somewhere inappropriate on purpose.

"Oh, no, I…" she started to stutter out but then stopped as she read the cold hatred that was creeping from his eyes into the mask of his smile.

"Are you alright?" she whispered in breathless fear.

His eyes hardened briefly and then he widened his smile again into a seductive smirk.

"You will not be disappointed tonight," he threatened.

Lucinda shuddered in what Daemon assumed was desire but was actually shear panic.

After only a moments descended into wild terror, Lucinda pulled herself together and made herself stand up straight. She was not powerful and she was not wise, but she was a Queen and she did not crumble under idle threats. And even if they weren't idle, she refused to fall apart. She had a Court to protect and males to care for. She could certainly handle a bitter and confused Warlord Prince for one evening, no matter how dark his jewels were.

What was beginning to bother Lucinda the most, however, was Daemon's barely disguised malice. She was sensible enough to know that there could be no reason why he should despise her in particular. By all accounts he could be a very polite escort, in public, and most of the witches that he had serviced raved about his skills. There was just the occasional outburst that resulted in an unfortunate…death. If he behaved like this normally, no woman would be stupid enough to try to bed him. But here he was piercing her with a deadly glare and at the same time pulling her irresistibly towards him with that confidently seductive smile.

As Lucinda considered him, Daemon held out his hand to her and suggested, "Perhaps we should try an activity that gets us off of our feet, hmm."

Lucinda did the only thing she could. She gave him her hand and which he took and, tucking it with disturbing gentleness under his arm, Daemon began leading them towards the bedrooms.

Lucinda swallowed hard but followed his gracefully measured steps towards Darkness only knew what fate. She turned to look at him and that same elegantly bored look had returned as if she were just another conquest for Court advancement.

And then it occurred to her. They didn't see it, did they? The witches who used Daemon only for sex and didn't understand males…they didn't see the hatred in his eyes. They didn't see the pain that he was going to inflict clearly written in the hard lines of his sensual smile. They saw what his sexy voice told them to see and they walked blithely to their own torment and sometimes destruction.

Daemon turned towards her gaze and smiled again. A sure and knowing smile that one would give to an uncertain lover, but underneath the smile was an assurance that the trap had been set and it was only a few more easy steps to her bedroom.

* * *

_I promise, promise, promise that in the next chapter we will meet the Sadist, but you've got to have some build up right? Thank you for reading! Please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

Daemon opened the door to Lucinda's bedroom and held the door open for her, his eyes starting to glaze over with the familiar rage of a Warlord Prince. Lucinda obligingly went through the door and moved quickly towards her bed in order to put some distance between them. A Warlord Prince who was enraged by being forced to serve in bed did not need a female close to him.

When Lucinda reached the edge of her bed and turned back bravely towards a Queen's familiar challenge: calming a male who has been incited to the point where all he could comprehend was violence. She had been taught how to deal with males in just this state of fury and confusion. She did not doubt her ability to, eventually, calm him.

Daemon, however, met her attempt at a kind look with the full force of his sexual heat. Lucinda's knees buckled and dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed. Her face flushed and her body began to warm. Daemon was not going to waste anytime.

* * *

As Lucinda watched the Sadist, for he clearly was that now, stalk towards her slowly with a wickedly seductive smile on his face, she marveled at her body's reaction to him. She had never been so drawn to any of her lovers and it was beginning to get frightening.

Lucinda was a younger queen who had only had a court for 5 years. Since her parents had died, when she had become old enough, her uncle had found a male who was a friend of the family to see her through her virgin night. Once she set up her court shortly after, her Uncle had become her Steward. Her Uncle had tried as much as possible to fill her Court with males who were the least damaged by abusive Queens in order for her to learn how a good Court should function before taking on more challenging males. It was also his hope that she would be able to avoid unwanted attention from other Queens by taking on the younger, and therefore less damaged, males making her Court weaker at first. By the time, her Opal jewel became a threat to them, she would have a mature Court and enough experience with Craft to hold her ground. At least that had been the idea.

The green jeweled Warlord Prince who had seen her through her virgin night had become her Consort in the forming of her first Court. He was a good deal older than her and his position in her bed had been a duty, but not an unpleasant one. Her Uncle had wanted to ensure that she had a Consort who could be trusted with her instruction in the bedroom. She was being groomed to be a good Queen and they didn't need some young buck giving her any reason to see the subjugation of males as an attractive path. She really wasn't the kind of woman that would naturally see the value in Dorothea's ways but those that loved her hadn't wanted to take any changes and she had understood that.

Besides, Roland had been a good lover…more than good. They had had some good times together and he had taught her the subtle and not so subtle arts of the bedroom. Not to mention how to deal with a Warlord Prince who, despite not being your husband, starts to see your body as his territory in ways that the other males in the First Circle don't.

But Roland had moved on to a higher level Court elsewhere. His contract had only been for 2 years and his unique skills had been needed elsewhere by other good people looking to preserve what Protocol they could.

Lucinda had promoted one of her First Circle males to First Escort, but had not yet taken on a new Consort. She wanted her next Consort to hopefully be the man who would eventually become her husband, so she satisfied her needs with whatever male was willing and available at the time. This was not unheard of, but it needed to be carefully handled to avoid hurt feelings and challenges. She had been managing it pretty well for the last three years and she felt that it gave her the unique opportunity of getting to know those men who chose to serve her in bed as well as in Court on a very different level. Of course, it had also increased the amount of petting and cooing she ended up doing because once a male shared your bed, he could get very insistent about how he should be comforted when they were alone…and sometimes even when they had an audience. But she didn't mind touching them, stroking an arm or rubbing a back. It worked like a charm...who was she to argue with that?

* * *

Trying to shake off the tendrils of seduction that were closing in around her, Lucinda put on her most comforting smile and did what she always did. She held out her arms, like a mother inviting a child into a big bear hug, and said, "It's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

This invitation, the words varying depending on the situation, generally would have caused even the most infuriated of her males to practically scurry over to her and find their favorite spot on her neck. Once he had sniffed the intoxicating and calming sent of his beloved Queen the relaxation would start and eventually his head would clear enough to listen to reason. It didn't always stop the yelling and stomping and threatening, but it was only a gentle tug on the leash.

Daemon's reaction was different.

Daemon's glazed look flickered only for a second and then he was standing over her as she sat on the bed. He smiled and leaning forward he grabbed her wrists. Then putting his lips close her ear, he purred, "I know."

Daemon's soft and gentle tendrils of seduction, meant to distract, now became strong cords of raw sexuality and tightened suddenly around her. Lucinda's eyes widened and she took a sharp breath. Her mouth was dry and she let out an uncontrolled whimper of need. Daemon chuckled softly and pushed her back on to the bed. He used Craft to hold her there even though she did not struggle. Standing up to his full height, he casually stripped off his jacket and shirt as she watched. He laughed at her again as she strained in vain against the power that was holding her down.

"Not yet, darling, not yet," he crooned knowing how much she wanted to touch him, "Why don't we start with you first."

But Lucinda already knew that he would never let her touch him. She could hear the contempt in his voice and she could understand that he might not be able to welcome a kind touch. She wouldn't ask that of him again because….

Lucinda shuddered at the first brush of hands against her body and all thought left her head. She closed her eyes and became a vessel for sensation. Hands slipped under her top and over her breasts as another finger trailed down her belly to tease at the top edge of her skirt. Lucinda moaned. In response, mouths materialized and joined in: mouths and licked and sucked and demanded attention. Lucinda moaned again and arched her back, giving the demanded attention to as many of the hands and mouths as she could.

When her body began to relax into the pleasure a white hot slash of pain ripped though her body so fast that she couldn't identify where it had come from. The sensation had started as a strange kind of pleasure and only after she had surrendered to it had it unleashed its claws and ripped at her. She had had no defense against the pain and it had rolled through her body as intimately as the pleasure had.

Lucinda opened her questioning eyes to see Daemon still standing over her with a cunning smile now gracing his beautiful features.

"It's okay," he purred, echoing her words, only his voice was filled with condescension and hatred.

As Lucinda looked into his eyes, she knew that now, finally, the game had begun. Her torment had started. Even as she closed her eyes and shuddered when the hands and mouths began to pleasure her again, even as she called out to him with a throaty moan, she knew the pain would come again and that she would accept it again. For the pleasure he was giving her, she would suffer. She would writhe for him, she would make humiliating entreaties, and she would pay whatever price he required. There had been no mercy in his eyes and she expected none.

But somewhere in Lucinda's mind, she felt a flood of sadness overtake her. How much pain must Daemon have felt to be able to take such delight in her own pain? How much humiliation had he experienced to make this torture satisfy him?

Lucinda opened her sorrowful eyes to look at Daemon one last time before she completely abandoned herself to his punishment. She didn't deserve this but if he needed it then he could take his revenge on her because she knew all to well what might happen to him if he lost control in a more public manner.

Then all of the hands and mouths and…other things that had joined in her torment suddenly stopped. The satisfied look left Daemon's face and he inspected her almost viscously with hard, uncompromising eyes. Unexpectedly, his eyes widened, he took several steps back from her, and then he collapsed on his knees to the floor.

* * *

_Please review!_

_I have now read the Shadow Queen and would like to discuss it if anyone is interested. I have started a new topic in one of the Black Jewels Trilogy forums. I will be posting my initial thoughts on the book soon, but I would like to hear other people's thoughts. Especially since we who read and write Fanfiction think about the world in a different way than the casual reader._


	5. Chapter 5

Lucinda did see Daemon fall to his knees. Once the pleasure had stopped, once she had been released from the grip of his sexual hold on her…all that remained was the feeling that she had been violated. He hadn't taken off her clothes and he hadn't even laid one of his own hands on her, but something about what he had done had left her with the feeling that a part of her had been touched that didn't belong to him.

She fully understood now why the stories of his bedroom skills where full of excessive embellishment and why the whispers about the pain were always waived off casually. No proud Queen would admit that the pleasure that they had from the great Daemon Sadi was anything less than spectacular. And no Queen would confess to being so much in his thrall that they allowed him to torture them. Not to mention the fact that if they wanted him again…they had to play the game. So the Sadist unleashed his wrath upon the witches that force him into their beds and they allowed him to do it for a taste of the pleasure he dangled in front of their faces.

And he had begun to enjoy it…

* * *

When Daemon had seen the sorrow…the acceptance in Lucinda's eyes it hit him hard. That was not the look he was used to getting when he was attending to a foolish witch. He had seen hatred, longing, rage, desire…but never sorrow.

And then another part of him rose up that didn't care. She had taken him as her Escort and she was sprawled out on the bed. It didn't matter what she felt. She was just like the others.

But as Daemon searched her face and brushed ever so gently against her mind, he began to realize that he'd been wrong about her. In the lightning quick way the mind has of reviewing the past, he dawned on him that this witch had been honest when she had tried to be courteous and kind. In his rage and in his residual pain from Dorothea's encouragement, he had not recognized the goodness in her.

Daemon forced himself to take a few steps back from her because the instinct to hurt her was now being goaded by the strong emotions coming from her. The smell of her fear and pain was filling the room with an intoxicating aroma that called the Warlord Prince out to play.

Of course she feared him. Of course she was in distress. After what he had done! He had always tried to respect the good Queens. Always!

And then it was as if the tremendous weight of Protocol and honor came down on his shoulders and slammed him to the floor.

"_What if I can't?" _he asked himself silently as his lowered his head into his hands.

"_What if I don't recognize her when she comes? What if all of the games I play to survive are in vein and when the time comes to serve….what if I am too broken to be of any good to her? Too damaged to serve? What if…what if the Sadist's eyes are the only ones I can see through when Witch standing right in front of me?"_

It had been many years since Tersa had prophesized the return of Witch and as the years dragged on, it had become harder and harder not to fight, to kill, to try to destroy all of them to prepare the way for her.

But that did not excuse what he had done. And it did not make him any less guilty of failing to recognize a decent Queen.

Daemon shuddered.

He knew that if he could not serve Witch, it would destroy him. He would either survive the slavery with something to offer her or the Twisted Kingdom would take him. He could feel it even now whispering to him invitingly. In the arms of madness, there would be no pain, it told him. Only glorious delusion!

"Prince?"

Daemon's head snapped up and he caught Lucinda in a half-crazed stare.

"Prince Sadi?"

* * *

_Everyone should read "Primal Forces" by Tastywheat (Rated M). Trust me you'll like it!_


	6. Chapter 6

Daemon rose slowly to his feet. His swirling emotions making him seem more imposing when he stood at his full height. The woman before him was no longer gripped by fear but calling his attention to her had been singular act of bravery. Even he wasn't sure what his next action would be.

All that had been holding him together for the last few hundreds of years had been the thought of Witch and what she stood for. He had honored decent witches when he had encountered them and had tried to preserve Protocol where he could. And all of it had been for Witch. So that he would be worthy to serve. So that he would not be a broken and useless man when she called upon him.

Daemon took a deep breath.

"Lady," he said, his rough voice sounding exhausted. Despite this, his voice had held the correct tone to properly answer her formal call for his attention. But it had also held a threat…be careful what you say.

"Prince…," she said, her voice starting out shaky but gaining confidence as she continued, "Would you be so kind as to move my chest for me? It…ah…appears that I over packed and the servants put it in an inconvenient part of the room…and…"

Daemon just stared at her in a kind of baffled astonishment but he felt something inside himself beginning to unwind. It had not been subtle or sophisticated but it had worked. When a Warlord Prince is dancing on the edge of violence…give him something to do. It was simple and it was ridiculous but it was the best she could do.

Besides, Daemon thought to himself as he spotted the chest behind the bed on the other side of the room, everyone knows that a clothing chest needs to be located near the bathroom for ease of access. It is absurd to place it on the other side of the room so that you have to go around the bed every time you need something from it.

"Of course," he said in an easier tone.

Daemon strode over to the chest and, after a quick test of its weight, used craft to lift it and move it to the other side of the room. He positioned it expertly were he would have put his own chest in this room and then turned back to Lucinda.

He was surprised to find her standing arms length away, holding out his discarded shirt to him. Yet, another act of bravery! Approaching a male who had so recently been causing her pain and who had only a few moments ago stepped away from the Twisted Kingdom. But then again she didn't know how close he had come.

Daemon slowly reached out his hand and took his shirt from her. Lucinda smiled and immediately turned and retreated to the safety of a chair further away from him.

* * *

Lucinda watched as Daemon slowly donned his shirt and carefully buttoned each button. When he was done, he adjusted the shirt on his body and then tucked it neatly back into his pants. Only when he was perfectly arraigned did he lift his head to look at her.

"I apologize…" she started, because she didn't know what else to say.

"No," Daemon said cutting her off, "I…over stepped the duties of Escort."

Lucinda blushed deeply.

"It is I who should apologize," he continued.

She waived a hand at him, denying the need for his apology, but she was unable to speak. She was embarrassed to have so easily given up her body to a virtual stranger. And she wanted to feel that pleasure again, the pleasure that only came with complete abandon. But not from Daemon, who neither belonged to her nor caused her heart to skip a beat. She longed for the man who would be her mate. The man to whom she could yield herself without fear. She had dreamed of such sensations and emotions filling her when she took that man to her bed and now these precious and girlish fantasies were soiled.

But she could not blame Daemon for his actions. He was clearly hurting.

Lucinda managed a wounded smile that grew as she spoke.

"Why don't we call it even? Since my knee had an unfortunate encounter with your…"

"Ah!" Daemon gave a reluctant chuckle. Only reluctant because it seemed inappropriate to laugh as much as he wanted to at her resolution, though she was obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Daemon slowly and un-menacingly walked over to sit in the chair opposite her.

Lucinda blushed again.

"Do you need anything?" Daemon asked in a gentle, soothing tone. The tone he used with the few females that he knew who deserved a little tending to.

Lucinda forced her eyes to meet his. She knew that the out-of-control Warlord Prince that she had seen earlier had been something that few women had seen and survived. And she also knew that the kind man that sat across from her now was even rarer. It didn't seem to fit, but...

She had thought before that he might be going insane, but now she realized that he was just trying to protect this small kernel of decency.

"You wait for her, don't you?" Lucinda said finally.

Only Daemon's training at Court had kept him from jerking in surprise. She couldn't know about the prophecy of Witch. No one but he and Lucivar knew.

Daemon regarded her cautiously but did not respond.

"You wait for the Queen you will belong to. You do what you have to do and you wait."

Tears began to well up involuntarily in Daemon's eyes and he saw the Lucinda's face fill with surety that she was right.

"She will cherish you, Prince…."

Daemon rose suddenly and said, "If there is nothing that you need…"

"No…I…" Lucinda responded, flustered by his quick movement.

Daemon smiled kindly at her then he turned and moved to the door.

"What should I tell them?" Lucinda called after him.

Daemon stopped with his hand on the door and turned back to her with a lazy smile.

"You danced with the Sadist," he crooned and his grinned widened, "Tell them the truth."

Lucinda shuddered and watched him go.

Daemon knew that she would lie like the others, but not only because pride was a powerful thing. She would lie to protect him from the punishment Dorothea would mete out if it was known that he failed to perform.


End file.
